Tomato Seeds
by Lipton Lee
Summary: Shelley Givens, age thirteen, has had enough of a certain monument in Arlo and Aunt Helen's yard.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: Non-Canon compliant. Future AU. Please don't hurt me.

She loves it here and hates it too. She loves to spend time with Aunt Helen and work in the garden and she loves how hot it feels here as compared to Lexington.

But it's hard to get past staring down your very much alive father's gravestone, or the man who waxes poetic about the day that he'll be buried there.

Arlo (he's not Grampa and he never, ever will be) always talks like he can't wait for his own son to die so he can put him in the ground, and it scares the hell out of Shelley.

She knows she'd be fine. She'd have her mama, and her aunt Gail and grandmother. She'd still have her Aunt Helen, but even though the man is still alive she knows exactly where that hole in her heart will be when Raylan Givens dies, and she feels it readying itself every time she comes face to face with that gravestone.

And one day, planting tomato seeds with Aunt Helen, Shelley's had enough. It's July and hot and Arlo's telling her again how he got those gravestones again, and how her daddy's gonna die sooner rather than later and be buried right there. Again.

Aunt Helen tells him to shut the hell up; "The girl doesn't wanna hear that kinda talk about her daddy."

"She's fine," Alro argues, waving a hand. "Ain't like she don't know what her daddy does; how her daddy lives."

And something in her just snaps. She doesn't know what or why but her feet are carrying her to the shed and her hands are grabbing the heavy, rusted pickaxe from the corner and lifting it, carrying it out and over to the gravestones.

Arlo and Aunt Helen yell for her. She knows they're shocked and they're telling her stop but all she does as lift the pickaxe and bring it down hard on the headstone marked "Raylan Givens. Beloved Son of Arlo and Frances. 1970-."

She keeps at it; watching the stone crumble and break, until a large, bony hand grips her by the hair and yanks hard. She drops the pickaxe and gets shoved to the grass. She rolls onto her back just in time for Arlo's foot to connect with her shoulder.

White hot pain shoots through her as his foot comes back down and something cracks in her chest and she gets dizzy, suddenly. She can hear Aunt Helen screaming for him to stop, but she doesn't say anything.

Shelley watches the foot lift one more time, and then stop. She can feel the wind pick up a little; thinks she hears some thunder rumble in the distance and knows that her father has arrived early to pick her up.

He's a force of nature, her daddy. It seems like every time he's angry, he brings a storm with him.

She hears Arlo get pushed back, his boots heavy on the grass, and then her daddy's voice rings sharp on the hot air.

"You move from that spot I will shoot you in the head, god damn the consequences."

Her vision still swims and she squints up. She can make out the Stetson and the Marshal badge attached to his belt, but not much else.

"Shelley? Darlin', you hearin me?"

Shelley nods and then gives a cough and something that tastes metallic hits her tongue.

"Shit." Her daddy's voice is edged with panic and she sees him fumble for something; something shiny that he puts to his ear. A phone, and he's calling an ambulance.

* * *

She wakes up to arguing.

It's nothing new for a child of divorce. Fact of life. Sometimes you wake up to arguing.

"I didn't know she was gonna do that, and I didn't know Arlo was gonna lose his shit like he did. I won't leave her over there anymore."

"You should never have left her there in the first place!"

"Ain't like she's little anymore, Winona, she's half grown, and she likes spendin' time with Aunt Helen."

"Give me a reason I shouldn't keep her away from you."

"Because that girl's the best thing in my life, and I'd do anything to protect her."

Her mama sighs heavily. "Raylan..."

"We won't go over there anymore. We won't. We'll visit Boyd and Ava and Josh and that's it."

"She shouldn't be there either."

"...Yeah..."

Silence fills the room until her mama speaks up again.

"She really busted up that old gravestone?"

Her daddy's voice is quiet and she feels his large, callused hand rest on top of hers; warm and reassuring. "Yeah."

"Our baby's smart."

He huffs out a short laugh. "Yeah."

"Ain't so smart," she mutters. "Got myself kicked in the chest." She squints up at them, her vision clearing slowly.

Her daddy grins. "Arlo busted a couple of your ribs. You're lucky as hell I showed up when I did."

"Don't you know, Daddy?" she jokes. "We ain't got nothin' but luck."

Her mama sits down slowly next to her. "Listen to this one jokin' like it ain't no thing. Like she's the toughest little thing in Kentucky."

"She is the toughest little thing in Kentucky," her daddy says, looking oddly proud.

"I gonna be alright?" Shelley asks, looking from one parent to the other.

"You're gonna be just fine," her mama says. "I am gonna take you home and take good care of you, you'll be better in no time."

"Daddy, too?"

More silence.

"Shelley," he daddy says slowly. "I don't know-"

"Daddy, too," her mama nods. "For a little while. Just til you're back on your feet again." She looks over Shelley's head at him. "He's even gonna take off from work."

Shelley looks up at him, and he's lookin' at Mama for a moment before looking to her.

"Ain't like I don't got the time."


	2. Chapter 2

She wakes up to the smells of brewing coffee and frying bacon, and she can hear her daddy's soft voice from the kitchen. She can't make out what he's saying, but she knows he's there.

She can also hear Gary's.

Ugh. Gary.

Gary is, to be quite honest, the worst. He really and truly is. He and mama got married when Shelley was nine, and just before that she may have insinuated to Uncle Boyd that he should take care of Gary for her, but according to him, being a bonafied asshole (Marshal Tim's words) doesn't mean he deserves to die.

They divorced three years later anyways.

Shelley shifts out of bed slow, her arm wrapping around her sore ribs, and she moves slowly out of her bedroom and down the stairs, gripping the banister.

She gets to the bottom and pads into the kitchen on bare feet, finding all three adults standing around. Daddy at the stove, and Mama at the coffee pot and Gary standing next to the island counter.

Nobody looks happy.

"Shelley, you should be resting, baby," her mama says, setting her coffee cup down and moving over to her.

"We were gonna serve you breakfast in bed and everything," her daddy says. "How we gonna do that if you ain't in bed."

"What's he doing here?" Shelley asks, nodding toward Gary.

"Gary's just here to check up on your," her mama says, stroking her hair. "He heard about what happened."

"And he wanted to make sure it didn't have anything to do with the bad men he's been mixed up with," her daddy adds. "Wants to keep that squeaky clean conscience."

Mama glowers at Daddy, who just grins.

"I'm glad you're okay, Shelley," Gary says. "Real scary, hearin' you were in the hospital."

The expression on Shelley's face, show knows, reads that she wishes Gary was in the hospital, and Mama gives her a look.

"Honey, why don't you go on back upstairs, and Daddy'll bring you breakfast." Her mama keeps stroking her hair. "You need help?

"I got it," Shelley says, and slowly walks back toward the stairs, she goes halfway up and stays there, listening.

"Dammit, Raylan."

"You really gotta make her injuries about the three of us?" Gary's voice asks. He doesn't sound surprised.

"Why not?" her daddy asks. "You tried to make 'em about you."

"I wanted to make sure she was okay."

"And that you didn't have her blood on your hands."

"Both of you shut up," her mama says. "Gary, you should probably get goin. I'm sure you have to go to work."

"The Marshal don't?"

"Took the time off, to help nurse my daughter back to health. That's what good fathers do."

She hears Mama snort. "Saint Raylan, you are not. Come on, Gary, I'll see you out."

Shelley takes another step up to hide in the shadows behind her as she watches her mama and Gary.

"I don't see why you're lettin' him stay here," Gary says.

"Shelley wants him here," her mama says. "Those two are thick as thieves, and she's been through a hell of a lot this past week. Don't mind letting Raylan sleep on the couch if it gives my daughter piece of mind."

"Yes. I'm sure he's sleepin' on the couch, Winona."

Silence fills the front hallway as they stare at each other, until Mama opens up the front door.

"Bye, Gary."

He leaves without another word, and Shelley carefully heads back to her bedroom.

* * *

It's not too long after that that her daddy knocks on her bedroom door and then sticks his head in.

"I allowed in?"

She grins and nods, doing her best to sit up further so she can eat. She's starving, the smell from the bacon gnawing at her.

He steps inside, looking out of place in her bedroom, covered in purple paint and movie posters; filled with books and games and a couple of stuffed animals. It's much more expensive-looking than her bedroom at his house.

He sits down on the edge of her bed, holding a full plate of food; eggs and bacon and toast. In his other hand is a glass of orange juice

"Thanks," Shelley says, taking the plate and fork and digging in.

Her daddy watches her for a long moment. "Feel a little bad about teaching you to be mean to Gary."

"You didn't teach me that," she says. "I learned that on my own. He's the worst."

"Hard to argue that," her daddy grins. "But you never really gave him a chance."

Shelley frowns. "Why's this a thing now? He and Mama have been divorced for a year."

He sighs and shakes his head. "No reason."

She nods and eats some eggs.

"So. You breakin' that gravestone."

Shelley stops and looks at him.

"We need to talk about that."

She nods and pokes at her bacon. "If you wanna."

"I don't," her daddy says. "But we need to."

"Okay."

"Why'd you do it?"

Shelley frowns and looks at him. She thinks it's pretty obvious why she did it.

"Spell it out for me, Darlin," her daddy says. "What happened? Why then?"

She takes a breath and then looks up at him. "He just kept talkin' about it. Every time I'm over there it's all about how he got those gravestones and how you were gonna be buried there, an' how you were gonna die real soon."

Her daddy's jaw sets.

"I lost it," Shelley says. "He just kept talkin' and I hated that gravestone so much."

"So you made it go away."

She nods.

Her daddy sighs and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "I stand by my statement from the other day. You are the toughest little thing in Kentucky."

Shelley grins a little and wipes her eyes.

* * *

"How is she?"

"Fed," Raylan says as he sets to cleaning the dish Shelley had eaten off of. "And sleepy, so she's takin' a nap."

Winona nods and looks him up and down. "You okay?"

"No," he says. "No I ain't okay."

"Is it the gravestone?"

He nods.

"You upset that she did it?"

"More like grateful," Raylan says. "But I feel like a damn coward that she had to be the one to do it and not me…and guilty as all hell that she took that beating instead of me."

Winona's hand rests on his back gently and her voice is quiet. "You didn't ask her to do that for you, Raylan. She did it because she loves you, and she was tired of hearing about you dying."

He glances at her.

"We've talked about it before," Winona admits. "It's scary to her how easy it is for Arlo to talk about you dying, but she didn't wanna stop going over there."

Raylan looks at her. "You think she planned this?"

Winona grins a little. "Yeah, I kinda do."

"I don't know who she takes after more," Raylan says. "And I don't know which is scarier."

Winona laughs a little, and then they both fall silent.

"I won't let Arlo hurt her ever again," he says quietly. "I promise."

Her hand presses into his back a little firmer. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

There are days when it hurts real bad, having broken ribs, and all she can do is let the painkillers seep through her bones and lay on the couch with her head on her daddy's knee.

They watch movies and he reads to her. Old books like _A Wrinkle in Time_. Her mama pokes her head in sometimes, but she doesn't stay.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah."

"How come Mama ain't sittin' with us."

"Well, I'm sure your mama's real busy," he says. "And she likes biographies and historical fiction a lot more'n _A Wrinkle in Time_."

Shelley laughs, and then whimpers, and wraps an arm around herself.

Her daddy rests a hand on her hair. "Easy there, Darlin. Easy. I know it hurts."

"She okay?" Her mama asks from the doorway.

"She's okay," he says. "She just laughed a little too hard. We were talkin' about your taste in books."

"My taste in books is fine."

"It's a little boring," her daddy teases.

"Sorry, Mama," Shelley says with a grin, and her mama shakes her head and walks over, sitting down and pulling Shelley's feet into her lap.

"That's alright. I like my books, no matter what your daddy thinks."

He grins. "Well, I'm gonna keep reading. Cause I wanna know how it ends."

"You know how it ends," Shelley says.

"Yeah, but I like readin' it," her daddy smiles, and then clears his throat and goes back to the book.

Shelley does a good job of pretending to drift off, letting her head turn as if its drooped forward in sleep.

* * *

"This is nice," Winona says quietly. "You and me and Shelley."

Raylan looks over at her from the book, his voice trailing off.

"Isn't it?"

He nods. "Yeah. It is. Always has been."

"She adores you."

"Feeling's mutual," Raylan mutters, glancing down at their daughter. "Don't got nothin' better in my life. Thing I'm most proud of in the world."

"I know she is," Winona says quietly.

He rested his head on the back of the couch and gazed at her. "You know it, why we talkin' about it?"

Winona just shrugs. "Sometimes I wish... sometimes I wish she looked at me the way she looks at you."

Raylan frowns. "How's she look at me?"

"Like you're her hero, come to save the day."

"Well, sometimes I wish she looked at me like she looks at you."

Winona grins a little. "And how does she look at me?"

"Like you got all the answers," Raylan says. "Like you'll make everything all better. Fix everything that's wrong."

"You two should git married again."

Raylan blinks and glances down at Shelley, whose eyes are still closed. "Excuse you, I thought you were sleepin."

The kid just grins.

"This she gets from you," he says to Winona. "Pretendin' to be dead to the world an' then speakin' up when she's got a mind cause she's been listenin' all along."

Winona just laughs. "Shelley, I'm sorry, but I don't think we're gettin' married again."

Shelley huffs. "Fine."

"We drive each other nuts," Raylan says. "And the three of us, livin' in one house, you don't want me around all the time. You'd get sick of me real fast."

She looks up at him as if he were crazy.

So does Winona.

"That's really what you think?" Winona asks.

The mood shifts in the room and Raylan looks wildly uncomfortable.

Shelley reaches up and gives her father's jaw a light shove. "You're weird."

He huffs and shakes his head. "Yep. That's me. Just plain weird."


	4. Chapter 4

He's startled awake in the dead of night, and the couch just isn't as comfortable as he'd hoped it would be.

Raylan breathes hard and rubs his neck, looking around Winona's dark living room at the shadows cast by the streetlamp outside.

He's not getting back to sleep, and he knows it.

He shifts to his feet and paces for a moment before snagging his jeans, and tugging them on, along with socks and boots. He snags his old hat from the coffee table and slips out into the darkness.

He makes it to Harlan in record time, and finds himself standing in front of his destroyed tombstone with the same pickax Shelley used.

Might as well finish the job.

"Raylan."

The voice, for a second, a very brief second, sounds like his mother's voice, but it's Helen's. She's shuffling down the front porch in a dressing gown and slippers.

"The damn thing's already ruined," Helen says. "Shelley made sure of-"

"It shoulda been me," he interrupts her. He's surprised to have said the words out loud. "I shoulda done this thirty years ago, and I was too chicken shit to get it done."

"Our children are always better than we are, Raylan," Helen tells him. "You been a father thirteen years, you shoulda figured that out by now."

He lowers the pickax and stares at her.

"Your mama said that to me once," Helen says. "'Our babies always do the things we can't.'"

Raylan shakes his head.

"Come have a drink."

"Arlo-"

"Isn't here," Helen waves her hand. "He's off beggin' Boyd's forgiveness."

"For what?"

"What he done to Shelley," Helen shrugs as she leads him up the front porch. "Shelley called Josh, Josh told his daddy, and Boyd's mad as hell."

Raylan gives a mighty snort.

"Boyd adores Shelley like one of his own," Helen snaps. "Just like you and Winona love the hell outta Josh and Bella."

"Bella ain't easy to love," Raylan mutters.

"Bella Crowder is her granddaddy reincarnated," Helen says as she pours a drink from the bottle on the porch. They don't go inside. She knows he won't set foot inside if he doesn't have to. "And Josh is everything good and sweet that Ava and Boyd ever were. Just like Shelley's everything strong and stubborn that you an' Winona ever were."

Raylan grins just a little.

"How is she?"

"Strong and stubborn," Raylan says. "She's healin' up good. Still hurts her when she laughs or coughs, though."

"How's it been livin in Winona's house?" Helen asks.

He just stares down at the glass she hands him. "Fine. Like gettin' more time with my daughter."

"And Winona."

"You, too, huh?" Raylan grins. "Shelley wants us to get married again."

"You're her parents," Helen says. "Course she does."

They stand in silence for a long moment, each drinking from their glasses, and when Raylan finishes his, he hands it back to her.

"I'm gonna get going."

Helen sighs and watches him walk back down the porch. "Give Shelley a kiss from me."

Raylan nods. "I will."

"You ever gonna let her come back down here?" Helen asks.

Raylan turns to her and squints a little. "You think we should?"

"I think we're her family," Helen says, lifting her chin. "And family's important."

Raylan shakes his head at her. "Once upon a time you handed me a wad of cash and told me to get the hell outta Harlan and not to look back, and now, you're beggin' me an' mine to visit. Which is it, Helen?"

She says nothing.

He sighs. "It's gonna be a while before Winona's ready for Shelley coming back to Harlan. Hell, it might be a while before Shelley's ready to come back. You're always welcome up in Lexington."

Helen nods slowly. "G'night, Raylan."

Raylan nods back and heads to his car.

* * *

It's nearly four-thirty when he walks back into Winona's house, and there she is, sitting on the couch he was sleeping on.

She gets to her feet, the look in her eyes is wary and a little mad and a little worried.

"Where did you go?" she asks.

He shrugs and takes off his hat, setting it down. "Arlo's."

Winona narrows her eyes. "To do what?"

He walks over to her, standing close. "I don't know. I just…had to finish what Shelley started. Talked to Helen a little…"

Winona sighs. "I was worried when I came down for a snack and you weren't here," she admits. "You didn't leave a note."

Raylan nods. "I'm sorry. Thought I'd be back before you got up…forgot about the snack thing."

She snorts and crosses her arms. "Gary always hated that."

He grins and steps a little closer. "Well, I thought it was cute…reminded me of a little field mouse in the middle of the night, nibbling on crackers or whatever."

Winona huffs and gives him a playful shove on the chest, but he hardly moves, resting his hand over hers. She looks up at him, her smile fading.

"Raylan…"

He bends his head, his lips lingering close to hers. "Hm?"

"Shelley is right upstairs."

"Dead to the world," Raylan says. "She'll sleep well into the morning, knowin' her. And if that's your only excuse…"

Winona gazes at him. "Not the only excuse…just the only one I can think of right now." With that, she tugs him down for a long, slow kiss.

* * *

Shelley walks slowly down the stairs in the morning to find the couch her daddy's been sleeping on for the last few nights rumpled, but empty. His hat's by the door, and there's socks on the floor, and a shirt, but he's nowhere in sight.

She frowns a little and turns when she hears someone else coming down the stairs.

There he is, wearing his jeans and nothing else.

They stare at each other for a long, long moment, before Shelley giggles loudly, holding her middle.

Her daddy rubs his face. "Shit."


	5. Chapter 5

Winona sits at the island counter and watches Raylan stand over the stove, poking a spatula into a frying pan filled with bacon. Next to her, Shelley sits with her feet up on a chair, a glass of juice in her hand and a book in another.

This thirteen-year-old looks smug, and Winona guesses she ought to, considering what the girl woke up to this morning.

Raylan had explained that it didn't mean they were back together, and Shelley shouldn't go assuming things; that life's more complicated than that, and one night can't fix fifteen years of problems.

But Winona knows he said all those things for her benefit, and not because he believes them.

Winona sighs and watches the back of her ex-husband. It's nearly three days into his stay, and he hasn't called work once. He's barely mentioned it, he's been so focused on Shelley's recovery.

Last night had been an indicator that things hadn't changed that much, though. He'd run off in the dead of night without leaving a note. Very Raylan.

And maybe Winona just needs to accept that; that Raylan is Raylan and there's no changing that. Shelley certainly accepts that, even loves the man for it, but she's supposed to.

Her daughter glances up from her book at Winona, and they have a silent conversation that amounts to:

_"This is stupid. You should ask Daddy to move in."_

_"That's crazy, Shelley. Nothing's changed."_

_"Maybe things don't need to change."_

_"Shelley…"_

And then Shelley goes back to her book.

"Breakfast is served," Raylan says as he walks over with plates of eggs and bacon and toast. It smells great, and probably tastes even better.

Winona grins. "Thanks."

He nods and sits on Shelley's other side. "Put the book down and eat your food."

Shelley does and digs in. "Mmmm. Mama doesn't cook like this."

"Hey, I cook," Winona laughs.

"You still make that fried chicken?" Raylan asks, glancing at her.

"Never ever," Shelley says before Winona can answer. "Not since she married Gary the worst."

"Don't call him that," Winona says, more out of habit than anything else. She knows she should care more, but sometimes she feels like Gary deserves Shelley's moniker of "the worst."

Raylan's looking at her now, and she shifts, lifting her chin. "Eat your breakfast, Raylan."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Shelley giggles with a hand on her abdomen, and Raylan reaches out to rub the girl's back gently.

"You called Josh the other night?" he asks casually.

"Last night," Shelley shrugs. "After dinner. Told him what happened."

Winona blinks and looks at Raylan and then Shelley. "I didn't know you called Josh."

"I wanted to talk to him," Shelley says. "Ain't a big deal."

Winona bites her lip. It probably is a big deal. Chances are Boyd and Ava know now, and Raylan's always been careful about what he tells the Crowders about their lives, since they're close to Arlo.

She wonders sometimes, if she had pushed harder way back when to know more about his past…to be a bigger part of his life as a whole and not just his life at that moment, if that would have saved their marriage.

A baby surely hadn't.

"What'd he say?" Winona asks Shelley, turning her attention to the girl.

"Not much," Shelley shrugs. She looks uncomfortable. "He…he says he doesn't think Arlo would do somethin' like that."

Raylan just huffs.

Winona doesn't spare him a glance. Just takes her daughter's hand. "I'm sure he was just surprised, Shelley. He's probably never seen that side of Arlo, and y'all are so young. Sometimes it's hard to imagine those kindsa things happening."

Shelley just shrugs again, looking sullen, and Winona reaches out and brushes her loose red hair away from her eyes. It's messy, and getting long. She wonders briefly if Shelley will decide to keep it long this year instead of getting it cut shorter.

"You listen to your mama," Raylan says finally. "Josh don't know Arlo the way we do."

Winona knows the unspoken words. Arlo would never beat up one of Boyd's babies. Not ever. But he's got no problem crushing Raylan's only child beneath his foot.

"I ain't hungry anymore," Shelley says, and sets her fork down. "I'm gonna go lay down."

"Want me to help you upstairs?" Raylan asks.

She shakes her head and gets to her feet slowly, taking her book, and leaving the room.

Raylan sighs and gets up to clean up Shelley's plate. "Never known her to sulk."

"She's a teenager now," Winona reminds him. "They do that sometimes."

"I guess she is," Raylan mutters, and turns back to her when he's done with the dish. "Feel like I've missed a lot."

Winona sits back and doesn't tell him that he has; that he works too much and that he's missed quite a few birthday parties, not to mention other milestones.

Though he did not dodge the menstrual bullet, because Shelley got that for the first time on his watch, which, if you ask Winona, serves him a little right.

"I like bein' here," Raylan says quietly.

Winona tilts her head at him, knowing that he's trying to convey his feelings and he'll probably fail.

"Maybe I could…I don't know…" He fiddles with the dishtowel he's holding. "Stay longer than a week. Past when my leave is up. I could stay."

Winona sighs softly, and watches him, thinking about how everything fell apart on them and how she'd blamed him for it but really...really it was both of them. Him and his damn job and her and her exacting standards.

Oh, what the hell. It's only her heart and her sanity and lord knows it'll make Shelley happy as hell to have him move in and it ain't like he has a lot of stuff they'll have to find a place for, way he lives.

She gets to her feet and steps over to him, taking the dishtowel and setting it down on the counter before wrapping her arms around him. "Okay, Cowboy. You wanna stay, you can stay."

Raylan's eyes widen, surprised at her response, and then he grins and leans in for a kiss, but she leans back.

"It ain't gonna be perfect," she tells him. "Or easy."

"When was it ever either of those things?" he asks. "Now get back here so I can kiss you."

She rolls her eyes and grins and leans in for that kiss, just as the doorbell rings.

Raylan groans against her lips. "Shit." He pulls away and she heads for the door, knowing he's following slowly behind.

"Tell 'em we don't want any," Raylan says, catching up to her and placing his hands on her hips.

Winona swats at him before swinging open the door. The smile on her face fades when she gets an eyeful of who's on the other side.

Raylan freezes too and then rubs his face.

Boyd Crowder nods to them, Ava and their two children behind him. "Raylan. Winona. I thought we should all talk."


End file.
